


Jigsaw Pieces

by TheGreatLibraryFangirl (Mazeem)



Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cock & Ball Torture, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masochism, Morning Wood, Recovery, Sadism, Sleep Sex, mouthy sub Santi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazeem/pseuds/TheGreatLibraryFangirl
Summary: While in Rome, Wolfe made himself forget certain elements of his relationship with Nic.Now he's remembered them. He's too tired and sore to be doing anything at all, but that's never stopped him before.A repost from Kinktober.
Relationships: Niccolo Santi/Christopher Wolfe
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Jigsaw Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost of something I wrote for Kinktober - I reread it recently and decided that I liked it so much it needed to stand on its own.

This was definitely the longest that he had ever spent around Nic naked without engaging in something arousing, Wolfe mused. 

According to the calendar he’d asked Nic to tick off in front of him every day, it had been more than two weeks since he’d … returned, and he’d been naked a lot. 

He had to admit, there was probably very little arousing about him right now, what with every single part of him disobeying his commands most of every day and necessitating Nic turn into a nursemaid. Staying naked was just easier than the embarrassment of being wriggled into clothes. 

It wasn’t as though he was aroused, either. He couldn’t even imagine the feeling, it felt so distant. Right now he was tired even though he’d woken a mere ten minutes ago, and he was in pain even though his surroundings were warm and comfortable. Those were just his two default physical states now.

But still. Even so. The concept of arousing activities was a pleasant thing to mull over. 

With an effort, he wriggled onto his side and watched Nic snooze. 

Nic’s exhaustion which enabled him to sleep alongside Wolfe at three o’clock in the afternoon was Wolfe’s fault, but he distracted himself from that gaping hole of guilt by admiring Nic’s physique instead. 

It was all nicely on display for him; Nic slept naked and Wolfe’s habit of stealing the blankets had only been intensified by. 

By. 

Had only intensified, lately. 

Nic had accumulated a few more bumps and tiny, healing scars in the past year. (It had been a year. The calendar said so.)

Wolfe tried to map those marks anew whenever he saw them. Sometimes his mind made them disappear, on days when real-Nic and the Nic who had kept him company for a year merged. 

He shook that thought free too, and stopped the meticulous, categorising nature of his stare. Let it wander the beautiful planes of Nic’s body. 

Despite the direction of his thoughts, it was a genuine shock when he realised that Nic had an erection. Only a morning one, but still. He hadn’t seen that for … for a while, either.

Before his conscious mind had made the decision, his hand was already creeping across the gap between them. 

Yes, why not? Give Nic pleasure. He could still remember how to do that. 

He stroked Nic’s firm thigh and curled his fingers into the softer skin on the inside. His fingers ached just a little more than normal at the pressure. Nic stirred. 

Wolfe found himself smiling. It was a rusty expression. 

No sooner had he clasped his hand around Nic’s warm length than he was hit by an overwhelming urge to feel it in his mouth instead. 

That would be a challenge. Even repositioning himself that much in bed would be a challenge. But his mouth was literally watering, which was ridiculous, and he’d never backed down from a challenge, so he started to carefully shift down the bed. 

It had suddenly become important not to wake Nic before he was down there. He wanted this to be a surprise. So he tried to be clever, as much as he could these days, he kept his hand next to Nic’s for as long as possible, so that should Nic reach for him he might not be alarmed into waking by his physical absence. 

Worming his way between Nic’s legs was another difficult task, although helped by Nic already having one leg partially bent. His legs were very heavy, but Wolfe managed to shift them enough. 

_There. Good. Success_. 

He propped himself up on his shoulders, which was almost immediately painful, and surveyed his prize. It was satisfying to see, but more than that, it was odd. Almost a sense of double vision. He didn’t have any memories from the last year to tie this to. That should have been a good thing, and yet somehow it wasn’t. More distant memories still felt unreal and glassy and too perfect. Made him feel untethered.

 _Oh, shut up, Chris_ , he ordered himself, and dipped his head. 

At the very touch of Wolfe’s lips, Nic stirred again. Wolfe fought the sudden urge to smile again - that would be highly counterproductive - and concentrated on taking Nic’s erection further into his mouth. 

To his dismay, he couldn’t make himself take any more than the first inch or two before his newly volatile gag reflex threatened. Never mind, he consoled himself. There was plenty to do at the head.

And Nic responded so beautifully to his clumsy tongue movements; he shifted on the bed, his hips rose and he aimlessly tried to grab the mattress. His eyes rolled under his closed lids and he mumbled something incoherent in Italian. 

This was wonderful. Wolfe ignored the steadily building ache in his shoulders and across his back and redoubled his efforts. 

Nic reached further across the bed, in an unmistakable grab for where Wolfe should be, and his whole body jolted when he found nothing. Nic opened his eyes and half-rolled to look at the empty space next to him.

Wolfe sighed, and let Nic’s cock fall out of his mouth. It was a little softer than it had been. 

“Down here, idiot.” He went back to his task but kept looking up at Nic as he did so. 

Nic’s face was a picture. Incomprehension. Dawning realisation. Utter shock. Wolfe dug his tongue into the sensitive slit just to give Nic’s mind something else to deal with, and Nic’s hips jumped most satisfactorily. 

“Chris?” Nic’s voice was hoarse with sleep. “Chris?” He looked at the empty space next to him, then back at Wolfe, then reached down to brush his hand carefully against Wolfe’s hair. Like he was a mirage that might disappear at any moment.

Wolfe had considerable sympathy for that point of view, but he much preferred to rub his tongue along the underside of Nic’s head until he shuddered than to consider why that was. He was starting to taste Nic. An excellent sign. 

“Chris, _che_?” Nic still looked like he’d been hit in the head. 

Wolfe rolled his mouth and raised his head, just enough that his words would ghost over the damp tip of Nic’s wonderful erection.

“I would have thought the ‘what’ was obvious, Nic.” The words came with surprising smoothness. He could still be a little tongue-tied, sometimes. 

Nic’s hand settled more firmly in his hair. That felt nice. It felt beguilingly familiar, too; there had been a lot of pleasant hair stroking in the past two weeks. It would be easy to relax into that, and forget his other enjoyable task. 

So he dipped his head again, pulling back Nic’s foreskin with one awkwardly placed hand so that the whole head was revealed. Nic groaned, this time, at the touch of Wolfe’s tongue. He was still staring at Wolfe with wide, stunned eyes.

That look softened as Wolfe kept going, but at the same time the pain in Wolfe’s shoulders was growing too much to ignore. He let Nic’s erection sit untended in his mouth for a moment as he tried to change his position. That didn’t help.

Oh fuck, he must have winced, Nic’s expression had shifted back to his default these days - concern. “Chris? Are you all right?” 

“A little stiff. Out of practise.” Wolfe replied. That was breathlessness chopping up his sentences, not speech difficulties. Nic apparently disagreed; his concerned expression grew and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. 

“Chris, my love, you don’t have to-”

“ _Have_ to?” Irritation welled up like bile. “Say something sensible or don’t say anything at all.”

Nic blinked and fell silent, but he kept regarding Wolfe with worried scrutiny. Most frustratingly of all, he started to soften again. 

“Don’t you fucking dare waste my hard work,” Wolfe growled. In a fit of silly temper, he pinched Nic hard in the crease when his inner thigh joined his groin. 

Nic’s leg twitched, like he had suppressed the urge to kick, but much, much more importantly his cock suddenly shot back to life in Wolfe’s mouth.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Wolfe’s mind dislocated for a long, dizzying moment. Nic’s skin under his hands, his mouth, his whip. Nic’s moans and groans and cries. The unadulterated pleasure Nic found in pain, and the dark joy of taking him to that edge. 

“I’d forgotten,” he mumbled out loud. Blinking back to himself, he found that his chin was nestled in the crease of Nic’s thigh, Nic’s erection bobbing in front of him. 

He could see why he’d forgotten. In the … during the … for the past year, he’d needed to associate Nic with comfort and safety. This wasn’t any of those things. 

Best not to tell Nic, though. 

Best not to wonder, either, how many huge, everyday chunks of previous life Wolfe had tucked away inside his maze of a mind, waiting to be stumbled across by accident.

“What did you say?” Nic was sitting fully upright now, petting Wolfe’s head and neck as if he needed soothing. 

Wolfe stuck out his tongue and idly licked Nic’s erection. Then, meeting Nic’s eyes, he deliberately drew his lips back from his teeth and put their points against Nic’s shaft. 

Nic’s breath caught and his hand quivered in Wolfe’s hair. 

The swell of power from Nic’s reaction nearly overwhelmed Wolfe. It felt too much. Like when he’d tried to eat chocolate cake the other day and been ill for hours. Like that, but inside his head. He needed to change this up somehow. 

“Help me up, my love,” he mumbled, and didn’t even complain out loud when Nic hauled him up the bed by the armpits like a child.

Eyes closed, he fumbled by touch to press his mouth against Nic’s. Then he forced his eyes open again, because kissing Nic with his eyes closed was asking for mental confusion. 

“Are you all right, Chris?”

“I am in an interesting state,” he answered, honestly, and reached down to brush his hand loosely against Nic’s erection. “As are you.”

Still, Nic looked hesitant. Aroused, but hesitant. Wolfe rolled his eyes. 

“I know where I am, Nic, and when I am.” He took hold of Nic’s wrist and dragged it downwards. “Now stop being an idiot and finish off what I started.” He leaned in and kissed Nic again, relaxing when he heard the sounds of Nic’s hand moving over his slick skin. “That’s more like it,” he whispered, and nipped Nic’s tongue sharply. 

The barest beginning of a groan came from Nic’s throat. Wolfe drank it in like nectar, then broke away from the kiss to rest his head on Nic’s muscular shoulder and watch his moving hand, and the peek of that red, wet, eager tip within Nic’s grasp. 

He slid his hand leisurely down Nic’s body, across his furred chest and down his hard, muscular stomach. Settled in at those delicious inner thighs, rubbing and scratching encouragingly. 

“What prompted this?” Nic asked, breathing a little quickly into Wolfe’s hair. 

Wolfe tried to trace the train of events backwards, but everything felt a little fuzzy. Something about nudity. “You look lovely naked,” he said, instead of an explanation. 

His hand brushed against Nic’s balls, and through more sense memory than conscious memory, he found his fingers wrapping around them.

“Chris!” Nic’s voice cracked in the middle. Wolfe smiled widely against Nic’s chest.

“Yes, my love?” he replied, and _squeezed_. 

His fingers instantly hurt, searing pain along the new fault lines of his bones, so strong that his mind nearly slid sideways into the memory of their being broken, but Nic saved him, if in an unusual way. 

For Nic was making the most _glorious_ undulating groan. So Wolfe mastered himself as best he could, while the cold sweat of pain spread over him, until Nic’s voice peaked at a higher pitch. Then he let go and rolled away, hastily tucking his clawed, painful hand on the far side of his body where Nic might not immediately see it. 

He managed a second or two of stolen time to look at his flushed lover, lips parted and eyes a little glazed, before the lack of pain brought Nic back down to Earth and he focused back on Wolfe. His brow furrowed. 

Who knew what Nic’d spotted first? The ragged panting? The slick shine of sweat on Wolfe’s brow? All could be signs that Wolfe was enjoying himself too, but Nic was nowhere near far gone enough to accept that as an explanation. 

He put a hand gently on Wolfe’s cheek. “Chris, you’re going to exhaust yourself.”

“I can’t think of a better way to end up exhausted,” Wolfe said, and although he was tired and sore, his grin came easily. 

Nic stared at him for a long, piercing moment. Apparently whatever he’d seen satisfied him, because his shoulders dropped and worry retreated back to the edges of his gaze - which was as far as it got, these days. His hand started moving again. Wolfe thought he might be getting near - Nic could get himself off very quickly. He presumed it was a soldier thing. 

“Take your time.”

Nic gave him an odd little sideways look. “Is that an order?”

Wolfe searched the exciting new-old memories, and affected exaggerated disdain. “Well, if you need that much help in controlling yourself, yes.”

His little bit of play-acting didn’t quite get him the result he’d expected: an “Oh, Chris,” from Nic, yes, but with a ragged laugh, and with tears glistening in his eyes. But he also slowed his hand, so that was the important thing. 

Once Wolfe had stopped feeling ill with the pain from his hand, he rolled back over and cuddled against Nic to watch again. Put his hand down there again, just to play with the reddened skin there. 

It wasn’t quite right, he mused, irritated. He scratched a little harder. 

Yes, but also no. 

He twisted his hand around clumsily to look at his nails. Ah, yes. Nic had carefully tended to his nails not that long ago. A few days ago? As a result, they were in the best state they had probably ever been in his life. 

Ugh, how useless. 

“You’ve done my nails too nicely,” he complained to Nic.

“Bite a nick into one,” Nic suggested. Wolfe remembered that Nic was good at these sorts of suggestions, though specifics eluded him right now. Never mind. 

“Adequate.” He raised a hand to his mouth, but faltered. Something had just stirred in the back of his mind. Fingers? Biting? Best not to ponder. Not to use too many glass metaphors in one day, but his mind felt slippery right now. 

He let his hand fall back to Nic’s thigh, and, seeing Nic’s hand slow, feeling Nic’s gaze suddenly on his face again, he raised his head to glare. 

“If you stop now, I will slap you.”

“Slap me anyway,” Nic replied glibly, and licked his lips. Wolfe could see the regret forming almost immediately in Nic’s expression and he wouldn’t have that. 

He steeled himself and pushed himself up on one elbow, slapping Nic as hard as he could across the face with his other hand. Nic smiled, wild and happy, and he couldn’t help but return it even as he collapsed back down onto the pillows like someone half-dead. 

(Was he still half-dead? He felt like perhaps he was inching his way to a higher percentage of life, overall.)

His back burnt and stabbed like the muscles had torn again, but it was worth it. 

“When I have more energy, Niccolo …” He caught his breath for a moment. 

“Then what?” Nic’s jaw was very slightly pinking under his meagre blow, and the wonderful sight made Wolfe’s chest tighten with a sob that he forced down.

The memories of what to say came more easily now. 

“You clearly need a gag. The fucking cheek of you.” He shifted himself into a more comfortable position, where he could keep an eye on both Nic’s face and his erection with minimal effort. The world was spinning gently, but he could manage it. “And after that, hm. I could lie back between your legs, biting you bloody while you masturbate like this for me.”

“Fuck, Chris.”

“Ah, that’s better. Fewer words from you.” He looked from Nic’s pink cheek to his erection and rapidly moving hand. “Toothmarks everywhere, Nic. Scratches. Your blood in my teeth and nails. And may your God save you once I get strength back in my arms.”

Nic watched him, head thrown back on the pillow and throat bared. Obediently silent now, apart from quick breathing. They watched each other for a little while. The wet sounds of Nic’s hand moving was the only thing to be heard. 

“I’m going to mark you from head to foot.” Wolfe said eventually. His voice was hoarse. “I’ve got a whole year to make up for, soldier.” Nic groaned again, deep and needy. His eyes were dark. 

Wolfe was truly exhausted now, and something was niggling at the back of his mind, waiting for the black release of sleep. It was definitely something to do with teeth, wasn’t it? He fixed his gaze on a vulnerable patch of skin just above Santi’s hip and imagined sinking his teeth in. The noise Nic would make. The imprint of his teeth afterwards. Yes, that was better. 

The nights were never his own anymore. This could be his again. This would be.

“Chris?” It was only when Nic’s voice roused him that he realised he’d drifted … not off, but away a little. A more peaceful start to the night than he could ever have dreamed of. 

He shook the fuzziness away as best he could. “Are you close?” 

“You should sleep.” Nic touched his cheek. Wolfe put the flash of his frustration into his glare. 

“Give yourself a fucking orgasm, and then I’ll sleep.”

“Well. Since you asked so nicely for such an - ah - onerous favour.” Nic’s voice was ragged, and entirely too cheeky. 

_One day soon I’m going to whip that tone right out of you_ , Wolfe promised him, silently. “Keeping a tally of all this backchat,” he mumbled. The words were so weak that he wasn’t sure if Nic could hear.

“Oh, do.” Nic’s hand was flying now. 

Wolfe could tell he was very close; he ached to reach out and dig his too-perfect nails into Nic’s glans but he couldn’t summon up the energy anymore. The spinning of the world was intensifying. 

“You promised me a lot.” Nic swallowed, dragged breath in. Right on the edge. “Lot of marks. Got to earn them somehow.”

A number of acidic responses to that popped into Wolfe’s head, but he kept them to himself for now. Saved his energy for opening his eyes again every time he blinked. He would _not_ fall asleep before Nic came.

He might have had his eyes closed when it happened, but he _heard_ Nic come. Knew that sound intimately, from behind the foggy glare of that year. 

Nic rolled over and pulled him even closer, warm and secure. Both of them still sweating and out of breath. 

Wolfe let himself slide into whatever awaited him tonight. Let the memories come. He and Nic were making new ones. 


End file.
